FAIL
by Kevvy Talks
Summary: A collection of all the Bleach characters' most spectacular fails. Chap. 7: Loly knows Gin's secret...
1. Kido For Dummies

**FAIL**

**Characters/Pairings: Ichigo/Rukia**

**Rating: K**

**Genre: Humor**

**Summary: Ichigo tries to learn Kido. SELF EXPLANATORY.**

**A/N: Something random I cooked up.**

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><p>"C'mon, Ichigo, you can do it!" Rukia sat on a desiccated log behind the 13th barracks, trying to instruct her orange-haired companion on how to perform demon spells.<p>

The only feat he had accomplished in the past hour was working up a sweat, which was amazing considering he'd done nothing but stand there. He had managed to manifest his reiatsu through the palms of his hands, but other than that they weren't getting any progress. He was straining so hard now his face was scarlet; altogether, it looked more and more like he was trying to produce a bowel movement.

Rukia huffed. "Say the incantation again!" she growled, agitated.

He let out a long breath and swiveled around to face here. "I just did!" he whined.

"Well, do it again!" she told him.

"But I can do it!" he argued.

"No, you _can't, _cuz if you could then we'd be getting somewhere!"

"Fine!" He threw his arms up in the air and recited the words for the invocation once more.

She straightened up in preparation to chew him out for his spectacular FAILURE when nothing occured.

Then, spirit particles began gathering in the air around him. Rukia held her breath.

A red luminous ball of fire gathered before him in the form of Shakahou and...instantaneously burst, exploding from his excessive amount of _reiatsu. _With so much power inside him, the kido wasn't able to maintain its form and discharged in all directions.

_This..._Rukia thought..._is why he'll never learn kido._

Ichigo's cooked carcass collapsed onto the ground without so much as twitching.

FAIL.


	2. Fashion Is, Fashion Isn't

**Characters/Pairings: Shinji**

**Rating: T**

**Genre: Humor**

**Summary: In a last-minute decision, Shinji tries to remove his tongue-piercing...while he's drunk.**

**A/N: I never really intended for this to be multichaptered, but something loverofgin said got to me, and I thought, hey, what the hell, right? So, I did another FAIL, and, right now I'm not sure just how long this thing's gonna be, so if I come up with nothing, then it'll end there. If not, I'll just add on to it. Now, if you've got ideas for a FAIL, then feel free to PM me and I'll use it. It will be really appreciated. As for this FAIL I've written, it is longer than the first chap. It sadly doesn't have Ichigo. **

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><p>Shinji had always liked to think that, among the others, he was the coolest and most hip. When Kisuke aided them in picking out their inventory of clothing before they parted elsewhere and beyond, Shinji took it upon him to make sure he was the most fashionable.<p>

He kept in check with the living world's styles and movements. The only problem was, he was only suited to the trends that fitted the era way back when, so when way back when had by-passed them and the straight cut hair and the retro-70s fad was no longer with-it, Shinji was left in the mud. It took him awhile to realize he was a loser and not the somebody he supposed he was.

All it took was a girl, which was the same way it started: a girl.

Shinji had the notorious habit of picking up chicks and not knowing what to do with them. He wasn't the repulsive, obnoxious sex-fiends that the squad 11 troops were rumored to be. If anything, he was utterly clueless, thus his inability to keep a steady relationship going. Not only that, Shinji had the attentive-span of a goldfish and no sooner had one woman before he drifted to another.

More often than not, he just got so plowed playing beer-pong or some other ridiculous bar game that he ended up sprawled out on the sidewalk smashed half to hell whilst muttering some nonsensical babble.

Anyway, some girl that Shinji had picked up made a condescending remark on his fashion style and he sunk into a miserable abyss of self-pity and depression. Then, in a fit of drunk madness, he came home to the warehouse where Hiyori and Lisa were training and, in front of everybody, declared, "I'M GONNA DO IT!"

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><p>Shinji swayed on the spot and stumbled into view of all his comrades, all shit-faced and haggard with his tie hanging loose and his white button-up wrinkled and stained with what, upon closer inspection, could have been vomit. For some unexplicable reason, he was barefoot. It really wouldn't have been the first time Shinji had gotten intoxicated and been mugged by hobos of his apparel. The only motive they had for not stripping Shinji stark-ass naked when he was in such a vulnerable state was simply because, even they, the homeless, couldn't stand his fashion style.<p>

"Do what?" Hiyori grumbled. Shinji hiccuped and shoved his hands into his pockets; he fumbled around for awhile-it could have been 15 minutes-and groused about misplacing his wallet-stolen by the hobos-before he withdrew some big-ass pliars.

Even from the distances at which they all stood, they could see his shoulders begin to shake, and then the tremors moved down his body so that he was quaking so violently they were surprised he didn't topple over.

"Is he _crying?" _Kensei exclaimed incredulously. Shinji sniffled and childishly lifted his arm before wiping his snot off on his sleeve.

"Ew, gross," Lisa said.

"I'LL SHOW YOU ALL I'M F-FASHIONABLE! NO ONE CAN OUTDO ME! NO ONE!" he wailed.

Shinji then proceeded to drop his pants and kick them away fiercely. Kensei reached out and covered Mashiro's eyes as she squeaked.

"I DON'T NEED THESE!" Shinji howled, and tore at his shirt, popping all the buttons and sending them flying in all directions. He shrugged the smelly fabric off his shoulders and hurled that, too, away. Now, he stood in nothing but his boxers, which, comically, had kittens printed on them.

Everyone stiffened as he looked down at his underwear in disgust and then commenced to shove those down his thighs onto the ground. All the women present turned away, yelling obscenities and flinging profanity like it was a prayer.

"DAMN YOU, SHINJI, GET YOUR FUCKING PANTS BACK ON!" Kensei bellowed. "THERE ARE WOMEN HERE, YOU KNOW!"

Shinji retaliated automatically. "AND YOU KNOW WHAT? I DON'T NEED _THIS!"_

Their blonde-haired leader opened his mouth and seized his tongue-ring with the pliars.

"SHINJI, DON'T BE STUPID!" Love cried.

"Yes, listen to us!" Rose joined in.

Hiyori, who was, quite frankly, used to seeing Shinji in more lude positions, hadn't averted her eyes like the rest of the girls and continued to look on at the scene with disdain.

Shinji sobbed, pulling slightly on the pliars and wincing at the sting. "I CA' DO I'!"

"What did he say?" Kensei inquired.

"He said, he can't do it," Hachi informed them.

"Oh, for the love of-!" Hiyori threw her arms in the air and began trudging towards Shinji, cursing her companions under her breath the entire way.

Shinji gave an unintelligible warning, tugging on the pliars for emphasis.

"Next time you do shit like this, make sure not to wuss out. If you're gonna do it, then do it!"

"'Iyori..." Shinji garbled, tears springing up in his eyes.

He pulled his hand away, prepared to surrender now that he was feeling groggy enough to pass out, and forgot that he was still gripping the pliars.

Hiyori and all the others watched as Shinji Hirako's face went blank and blood began pouring down over his chin and onto the ground. He looked down at the pliars he held in front of him and saw the faint glint of his blood-covered accessory.

Shinji broke down and sobbed in earnest. "MY WIIIIIING!" he shrieked, heartbroken.

Still half-drunk, Shinji tried to re-attach the ring and accidentally swallowed it...which only upset him more.

FAIL.


	3. Shame

**Characters/Pairings: Uryu/Orihime/Ryuuken**

**Rating: T**

**Genre: Humor**

**Summary: Uryu tries to impress Orihime. The result?: Ultimate failure.**

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><p>Uryu Ishida would never openly divulge that he was infatuated with the most voloptious, curvaceous girl in his school; the very girl who had cascading waves of thick ginger flowing down her back and a winning smile and ditzy ways, and brief attentive spans. The only deterring aspect of her character was her...cooking. She could blend together parts of the food pyramid that were never meant to intermingle and make the most surreal concoctions that would ultimately, at first glance, appear utterly innocent and tantalizing...but were overall creations of diabolic destruction meant to induce nausea and seizures.<p>

Okay, so maybe Uryu was exaggerating there.

But he didn't care about her faults. He could overlook those any day of the week.

Most boys were absorbed with her bust and looks and tried their best not to be turned off by her odd-ball personality. But it was the peculiarities of Orihime Inoue that were most attractive to Uryu.

So, when given the chance to impress, take the chance, right?

This was what Uryu Ishida was thinking as he tilted the camera to the right angle so he could capture her features just so. He contemplated her beauty and the inconvenience of the others as he backed up to get them in the frame as well. Chad was bigger than he expected, so Uryu had to back up even _further _to capture the photo.

It was a group photo. Orihime had insisted on it for something to look back on in the years yet to come; Rukia had inforced it. Now they were all lined up outside in the school yard, striking funky poses while observing him as he went about for the preparations. The grass rustled under their feet as they shuffled.

Uryu lifted his camera and took another step rearward...then another...and another...

He caught Orihime's doe-eyed gaze and automatically smiled, even knowing that it must look dorky on him and she wasn't at all charmed by him as he was by her. He tripped akwardly and stumbled off the sidewalk.

Uryu regained his composure quickly and focused the lens just as she flashed him a dazzling smile.

Startled, he lowered the small digital contraption and...got run over by a moped.

And the thing about mopeds...is they are nothing like cars, SUVs, pick-up trucks, or motorcycles.

At the very least, it should have clipped him due to its size.

Ryuuken Ishida, the father of the aforementioned, shook his head in displeasure and dropped the clipboard back to its former station at the end of the hospital bed. He look down upon his son, who was swathed in bandages. His leg was slightly elevated off the mattress with a cushion as it had been twisted. There had been a break in the bone of his arm, but it would no sooner be healed and he would be back to his regular comings and goings. As far as mopeds go, Uryu had damned well made it look like he'd gotten in a scuffle with a semi-truck.

"What a disgrace. Such a fuss over a girl," Ryuuken grumbled, and exited the room without another word.

FAIL.


	4. Two For The Price of One

**Characters/Pairings: Aaroniero **

**Rating: T**

**Genre: Humor**

**Summary: Aaroniero's relationship with himself is a tricky one.**

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><p>Chapter 4-Two For the Price of One<p>

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><p>No one would know it to look at Aaroniero and suspect he had once had an acute case of Agoraphobia.<p>

If one had bothered to peer closer, it would have been manifestly obvious. But no one, and that is, everyone, had far better things to ensconce themselves in than the private life of Aaroniero Arruruerie.

They all busied themselves for the sake of never having to glance in his direction. It just wasn't a pretty sight, nor was it a sight one wanted to be graced with everyday.

However, before he had absorbed himself into their social network and everyday activities-tea parties, duels, congregations, battle stragedies, and the like-Aaroniero had hidden in his palace promptly proceeding the events in which he was bathed in the all-encompassing power of the Hogyoku.

Suffice to say, Aaroniero didn't like Aaroniero.

_"This is all your fault!" _the childish voice said, its soprano pitch echoing around the confines of their fortress and bouncing off the barren walls. It rolled around in the glass capsule and bumped into its companion.

_"It was supposed to be me! My body! Mine!" _The shrill, whiny vocalization went on and on in a seemingly never-ending rant of sanctimonious blathering.

**"Quiet," **said the low monotone. The presiding head, having reign of their containment, hovered above the other in a sort of diabolical cunning slash tedium. It would have seemed almost smug, as it only had to cock its body to the side and its partner was shut up, if it weren't for the subsequent stillness that blanketed the entire atmosphere. Alas, there was only a moment of hush tranquility before-

_"It still should have been me!" _And the lower head got its word in.

Aaroniero twined his fingers together, trying to get used to the constricting fabric of the glove they wore.

His infantile half played no part in it. It seemed he was still pissed off about this predicament they'd gotten themselves into.

No one approached the palace to greet them into the fold. It was just as well, but the high-pitched counterpart seemed to have its qualms thereafter about introductions...or anything slightly relating to the outside. That, and Aizen persisted in brightening the artificial sunlight just to piss him off when he specifically asked to have it removed. Such was the life of this Agoraphobic.

When Aaroniero finally got the nerve to peek out his door, he creeped stealthily over to the door of his domain, in spite of the fact covertness was anything but necessary.

_"What are we doing?" _the soprano voice whined. The latter of the two ignored his near-identical twin and cracked the door open, permitting a blinding ray of light to flood into the room.

_"AAH! YOU STUPID MORON! CLOSE THE DAMN DOOR! I CAN'T SEE, I CAN'T SEE, I CAN'T SEE, I CAN'T SEEEEEEE!" _the lower head shrieked, launching into a string of expletives. _"OH, LORD AIZEN! IT HURTS!"_

**"Quiet," **spat the other. He pulled on the flat surface of the entrance, widening the gap for exit, and took one clean step into the world...then tripped on his robes just as Szayel came trotting up the walk.

Glass shattered everywhere followed by a miniature wave of fluid that splashed out onto the concrete, carrying its former occupants with it.

_"GAAAAAAH!" _Szayel flinched and halted as the soprano voice screeched. He watched as the head rolled this and way and that and then proceeded to blow up in a fit of rage followed by a lengthy string of oathes and obscenities. Which was a hell of a lot more than could be said for the other head, who just blinked sedately and stared at his writhing companion, now wheezing for breath.

**"Help," **came the simple request. Szayel bent down and scooped them up in his hands...and deposited them into the pitcher of tea he'd made specially for Aizen. He then rushed them to his labratory.

Aaroniero never got around to changing his wardrobe. The deep-voiced head insisted they change their preference in attire; his immature half liked their robes, preferred the frills, and didn't want anything else. He also thought it was very comfortable. They never did come to an agreement.

A month later, Aaroniero tripped again on his way to an assembly.

_"I hate you," _the babyish voice said, quavering.

The other sighed, rotating to its side on the floor and waiting for someone to come by and assist them before they asphyxiated.

Fail...


	5. Saving Face

**Character/Pairings: Starrk/Lilinette**

**Rating: T**

**Genre: Humor**

**Summary: Rousing Starrk from slumber takes a new turn for the worst.**

**Warning: Copious amounts of vomit.**

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><p>Chapter 5-Saving Face<p>

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><p>Lilinette had some inane ways of waking Starrk up when the usual pushing and shoving didn't meet ends.<p>

Sometimes she would jab him in the ribcage or ram her foot in his kidneys; other times she just got so fed up she neglected to do such a job at all. And when all of the above were engaged, the outcome was Starrk turning over and going back to sleep. The same ol' shit didn't have effect anymore.

That worried Lilinette to a degree. It meant she was losing her touch.

Everything else, she could let slide. But when the _shinigami _stole into Hueco Mundo under surveillance, that was the final straw. Hell, everybody was fighting! Nnoitora, those useless Privaron Espada, and even Aaroniero were in the heat of battle with their own opponents. And all Starrk could do was lay around like a sack of waste.

She crept over to his side, watched the steady rise and fall of his chest, listened to the sound of his even inhale and exhale. He was sprawled out clumsily across his throne of cushions with his arm draped over his face to shield from any light. His mouth was wide open, permitting a string of drool to slip from his gaping pie-hole and into the shadow of stubble on his chin. Lilinette extended her arm, index finger pointed outward.

She hovered over him for a moment and then dove for gold, sticking her forefinger straight into the back of his throat. Starrk awoke instantaneously, chocking and gagging...and then heaving onto the female Arrancar.

"JESUS!" Lilinette shrieked, catapaulting into the air. "EEEEW!" She flung her arms around helplessly.

Starrk just watched groggily as she gestured insanely to the hot vomit all over her partially exposed front.

"GODDAMMIT, STARRK, YOU PUKED ALL OVER ME!"

He blinked. "You stuck your hand down my throat. What the fuck was I s'pposed to do?" His timbre carried inflections of annoyance.

"AUGH!" Lilinette flicked her hand out, spraying Starrk with chunks of vomit.

"OH GOD, YOU GOT THAT SHIT IN MY MOUTH!" he howled, leaping in reverse.

"Yeah, well, that's where it came from in the first place, dumb-ass. Don't bitch about it."

Her final remark was punctuated by the slam of the door as Starrk took fort in the bathroom.

"Damn you, Starrk, open the door! I need it more than you do!"

"Oh well," came the muffled reply. Lilinette rushed over to the door and began pounding on the vertical surface with her fists, smearing her counterpart's sick onto it. She blanched with disgust and tried to keep from gagging as she continued her ensemble on the only obstacle she had yet to demolish in their room.

"Starrk!" she barked.

The sounds of a shower starting followed.

Lilinette bent over and upchucked onto the floor, already nauseas from the smell on her.

When Starrk finally exited their lavatory, he slipped in her sick and collapsed into it.

The process repeated itself.

FAIL.

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><p><strong>AN: Reviews make me glow. :3**


	6. FullTime Occupation

**Characters/Pairings: Aizen**

**Rating: T**

**Genre: Humor**

**Summary: A day in the life of a demi-god...who is attempting to be somewhat average despite its futility.**

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><p>Chapter 6- Full-Time Occupation<p>

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><p>Being a jaded god had its pros and its cons.<p>

When he'd been Mr. Nice-Guy with the tolerable attitude and the undulating, wavy locks going on, as opposed to the dead skunk he worn on his head now- people argued it was a shitty sight either way-he'd at least gotten a once-a-week latte from _Starbucks _and daily treatment by Momo.

But after he took the path least-chosen and traded his mentally unstable deputy for two psychotic fangirls named Loly and Menoly, shit went downhill. He'd been revered and loved in Seireitei, whereas now he was just some symbol of higher power. It had its moments, he admitted, but there were times where he contemplated setting his head on fire and throwing himself out a window just to escape the menial, tiresome chores that seemed to plague him every dank corner in _Hueco Mundo. _

Case in point, at dawn approximately sometime in the everloving morning (because he was lacking in a clock and the sun was fucking stationary so there was no way to tell the time setting), someone wrote on the bulletin board that the bathrooms were backed up. Every. single. stall. And why was this? Because Wonderweiss stuffed mounds upon mounds of toilet paper down the commode, thinking that it was some form of entertainment, and now the damn halls were flooded.

And Tousen had to take a shit. So there.

Therefore, Sosuke Aizen had to dispatch orders for a janitorial crew to be gathered so _they _could wade through feces and urine while he brewed some coffee than gagged at said image of feces, thus wasting his wonderful rise-and-shine...thinking of feces.

By mid-dawn the bulletin board was jam-packed with notes.

Aaroniero wanted the artificial sunlight to be reduced.

_Not going to happen, _Aizen thought, and plucked the note off, tossing it over his shoulder into the already humungous pile that was amassing to his rear.

Zommari wanted to convene in the meeting chambers to discuss a very dire matter.

Aizen chose his best anti-Christ outfit and donned it before setting out to see what the problem was.

He made it all the way across Las Noches only to find out that Zommari just wanted him to accept the power of _Amor _into his being to become some kind of mindless sex-slave (or so he imagined).

The blade had no sooner been drawn and Aizen had pardoned himself and made out of there like a bat from hell.

Barragan wanted to be in a position of control for one day.

Denied.

A new Arrancar had been accepted into the ranks and he wanted to see his released state.

Aizen peeled the square piece of paper back from the bulletin board just as there was a deafening crack and the whole ground beneath him began to shake. Bits of ground concrete landed in his slicked hair and he stepped back. At that moment the ceiling caved in and Yammy smushed Aizen with his gargantuan ass.

In his impatience to see _Ira's _full strength_, _he had gone and discharged its full power, causing the dome to fall apart. It took nearly 24 hours to find Aizen and recover him from Yammy's ass.

Case in point? Being a god isn't easy. Now the whole neighborhood's gone.

FAIL.


	7. A Bit Misguided

**Characters/Pairings: G. Ichimaru/Loly**

**Genre: Humor**

**Rating: T**

**Summary: Loly knows Gin's secret...**

**C****hapter 7-A Bit Misguided**

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><p>He didn't make any sense to them. Menoly would purse her lips, Loly would bend over a bit and flash him.<p>

He didn't so much as twitch.

She tried some more...fairly forward approaches. When he came waltzing down the corridors she would flick her tongue out and trace her full lips while twirling some ebony black strands of her pigtails around her index finger. Menoly tried to lure him with conversation. No go.

He always seemed...focused on other things, on what was right in front of him but wasn't in clear sight of anybody else.

Gin Ichimaru was an appealing character with a come-hither type of stride that beckoned even the opposite species. Fascination and curiosity roused Loly from boredom.

She needed a play-thing anyway. So she snooped.

It wasn't easy. He was a relatively private person with little possessions and skeletons she was just _dying _to pry from the closet.

But after awhile of senseless seduction that didn't have any effect, she snapped.

"I can't take it!" she screeched.

The former captain of squadron 3 stepped back, putting a wide gap between the two of them.

His evasive technique did only so little as Loly had crossed the space in two seconds and had her fists bunched up in the front of his robes. They were by themselves in the massive corridor as their weekly get-together with Aizen over tea had just been finished up. All the Arrancar had disbanded to slink back to some dreary corner in _Las Noches_.

"I know what you're hiding, Ichimaru!" she declared, her voice bounding off every conceivable surface in the wide passageway.

Her intonation made Ichimaru arch a brow.

Did she know? How could she know? He had been so watchful, so discreet, there was no way she could have found him out.

_That he was up against Aizen...that he was on the opposing side._

_He was plotting to kill the god._

Gin fostered a placid air, chancing it...in hopes that he could deter her.

"You were Matsumoto Rangiku's childhood companion yet you never...!" Loly began passionately, but went still and peered over her shoulder edgily.

With her strength she had lifted him a couple of inches from the ground and had him pinned to the partition closing off some unknown chamber. Gin didn't struggle, though.

Loly twisted back to face him, her pigtails whipping across her cheeks.

"You have a funny accent and you always hang around Luppi. You're constantly smiling and your hair is so perfectly coiffed..."

The Arrancar female swallowed the lump in her throat and looked up at him.

Gin was the picture of clueless...which was saying something because he usually knew everything that was going on, assumptions included.

"You're gay!" she announced assuredly.

A part of Gin's mind backfired, circuit fuses going haywire.

SHE THOUGHT HE WAS GAY?

OH _HELL_ NO!

"B-but..." he said, stammering softly and lifting a finger to object this scandalous accusation.

This just _could not _be happening.

Loly leaned up and he jolted as she flicked her wet, pink tongue out to lap at his earlobe.

"Don't worry," she breathed hotly againt his neck, "your secret's safe with me. I won't tell Aizen-sama."

She flippantly tossed one of her pigtails over her shoulder and danced back away from him, liberating him of her hold. "Well bye now!" she said, and skipped away without another word.

Gin just stood there, feeling very much molested...which was a bit of a twist considering _he _was usually the one supplying the molesting and mind-fucking.

And he STILL didn't know how she had gotten it into her head that he was gay.

Gin lifted his hand, leisurely lacing his fingers through his hair before turning and setting off to find Aizen.

FAIL.


End file.
